Can't Have You
by SlimJonas4ever
Summary: Nick Jonas never thought that he would ever begin to like Marshall Mathers, but he did. Finding out that he also liked his brother was another nightmare. It's how he deals with it that makes the real story.


If anything, Marshall had more in common with Nick than he did with Joe. It was very odd, considering how he got along with Joe better than Nick, even though Nick was like the mini-Marshall. Sure, they looked nothing alike, but the personalities of each was extremely comparable. Both of them were headstrong, confident in their work to every extent, family oriented, beyond healthy individuals. Marshall's previous addict behavior frequently left him an insatiable urge for something to do, something to take. It drove him to the point of anxiety and discomfort. Joe was like his never ending drug. If Joe (God forbid) had to use the lavoratory, Marshall flipped and paced around the room like he needed to create a mote. His doctor diagnosed him earlier that year with Separation Anxiety Disorder when Joe had to go on his solo tour. The Quack offered him meds left and right, but Marshall refused. He had to. Nick just shook his head and made a mental note to avoid the former drug addict at all costs when Joe wasn't around.

Nick, on the other hand, had his own health problems. His diabetes had been a bitch lately. It seemed like every hour there was something else going on. He blamed it on the tour schedule. One short moment his blood sugar was high, then a minute later it was low. It did wonders for his mood. He was almost as cranky as the love-starved puppy making a rut in the carpet. A puppy that saved his life. Nick didn't understand how he ever went in an elevator again after that time during the world tour when his crew was trapped inside a broken one. Thank the Lord it had only been a couple of minutes, since he hadn't brought any insulin or spare candy bars. It happened again, however. Marshall and Joe were enraptured into a heated tongue-sucking fest when a low rumbling within the elevator stopped the momentum to a hault. Marshall, Joe and himself were on their way back to their hotel room, and Nick was having a low moment. His heart raced in anxiety as the fear erupted within him. His blood sugar was incredibly low. Marshall, with immense love in his eyes, went over to Nick, holding him close and pulling out five Twix bars and a Diet Coke. Nick accepted it with tears pouring down his face. They were locked in the elevator for four hours.

Nick realized that Marshall loved him almost as much as he loved Joe. Marshall realized Nick loved him almost as much as he loved Joe. Nick actually couldn't wait to talk to Marshall everyday. He woke up early in the morning just so he could prance over to the room Marshall and his brother were staying, planning a conversation in his head about basketball, music, and government (he even offered Marshall to be his Vice Presidential candidate when he ran for office).

Then things started to get serious. Too serious. Nick found himself flirting with Marshall a lot during their chats about KRS-One and Les Paul. Nick would place his hands on Marshall a lot, pushing his inked up arm when he made fun of Nick's hair, sometimes even running his fingers through it. One time in fact, Marshall plunged his piano hand through his luxurious curls gently, sensually, then pausing to play with Nick's ear. Unconsciously, Nick leaned into the touch, feeling a hidden comfort and "rightness" within Marshall's touch. But then Joe called for Marshall to come with him to Starbucks, and Nick was actually irritated for the rest of the day.

Joe and Marshall were inseparable. It made Nick nautious sometimes, watching his unknowing best friend sucking on his brother's neck like he couldn't breathe without some part of Joe's body in his mouth. "In his mouth". _Oh God_, Nick thought, _I'm really losing it._

Part of Joe and Marshall's inseparability included dozens of interviews. They were the hottest couple in the world. They were the definition of love, whether it be for same-sex or opposite-sex. Nick had really had enough with it. There was something about Joe and Marshall flaunting their love to the world that made Nick feel empty inside. Then there was that one interview.

"If you were to die," Touree asked, facing Marshall, "who would you want Joe to be with? Male, female or both." Marshall smiled, and Nick leaned in to hear his response. Marshall always wondered about his own death, to the point of scaring himself.

"Well, for a girl, it would have to be Hayley Williams. I think she's the sweetest thing in the world, and compliments Joe perfectly. And for a guy," he paused, looking at his feet, a blush underneath his cheeks, "I would say, Nick." Nick's breath caught in his throat. "I know its taboo because he's Joe's brother, but the way they interact with each other, there's somethin' deeper than love goin' on there. Fuck it, Nick's more perfect for Joe than I am," Marshall confessed with a laugh.

Nick was practically tearing a hole in his skinny jeans with his hard-on. _No no no no! _Nick thought, _I like chicks! I'm in love with beautiful and gorgeous women! Not masculine and tatted rappers! _Nick avoided Marshall the rest of the day, yet he couldn't help himself from looking at him. Those gorgeous sapphires bursting from a line of beautiful eyelashes. Then one of those sapphires winked at him, followed by an evil smirk. Nick's heart raced again.

It didn't stop racing for the rest of the night, and Nick was as hard as a brick, thinking about Marshall. Marshall, Marshall, Marshall. He wondered what he was doing. Maybe he was writing. _Yeah, _he scoffed, _He's writing rhymes at two a.m. _Maybe he was wearing those cute glasses that framed his face perfectly. Maybe he was in nothing but a wifebeater and boxer-briefs. Maybe he was thinking about Nick. _Psshhh, _Nick scoffed again, _Thinking about me? Why? He has with the beautiful, sexy, almighty Joe Jonas probably writhing and moaning under him. Shit, why does that turn me on?_

He always had a little crush on his brother. Who wouldn't? People magazine named him Sexiest Man Alive not too long ago. Joe was a bisexual god that lived to please his lover and entertain people across the globe. He'd be deemed psychotic if he didn't feel a tiny bit of sexual attraction towards Joe, even if he was his blood.

By that point he'd had enough of laying down in bed, sweating and hard with little sexual pleasures dancing in his head. He needed to talk to them. Talk about his unexplainable feelings, and maybe ask Marshall why he chose him for Joe.

He got out of bed and went to Joe and Marshall's room, getting a keycard and waltzing in without a word in a shirt and boxers. The keycard was given to him by Marshall himself, just in case he needed something. Marshall and Joe always had some insulin with them just in case Nick's omnipod went haywire. He wasn't asking for insulin, but he received something greater and deadly when overdosed.

His brother's face was a mask of pleasure and sweat, his eyes closed and head nestled on a down pillow whilst Marshall went down on him. Marshall's head bobbed up and down between Joe's bent legs. When the proper thing would be for Nick to run out of the room, the only thing he wanted to do was get a direct sight other than his current side view. They still hadn't noticed him, so Nick decided to hide in a dark corner surreptitiously. Then Joe straightened his leg, and Marshall's flushed and angelic face was in perfect view. His pouty lips taut, red and swollen around his brother's large and stiff cock. He sucked on Joe fast, pacing his head up and down his brother's shaft rigorously, never ceasing for a breath. His face was peaceful, like Joe's, a mask of content and pleasure, like he was getting off to Joe's cock hitting the back of his throat. His eyes were still closed as he broke away from the stiff member, leaning down to suck on Joe's balls delicately. Nick wanted to touch himself, but he could barely contain his moans as it was. He couldn't make out where Joe ended and Marshall began. They were just a blur of sexually entranced limbs and glistening skin.

Finally it was just too much. He was so hard by that point that he was pulsating in his boxers and biting his lip ferociously to hold back a moan. He inched his way to the door slowly, silently, and then...

"Oh Marshall...yes," his brother sighed. He sounded so...beautiful. So passionate. It was like he was onstage, singing for a variety of music fans that he focused on every night. Marshall's lips curved into a smile around Joe's cock, which he had enveloped back inside his mouth whilst Nick was attempting to leave. But, how could he leave now?

Joe's soft hands fell to the back of Marshall's head, urging him to take more of Joe's member inside the sweltering dampness (and possible tightness) of Marshall's mouth. _My God, _Nick thought, _he must be really good at giving head._

Then Joe was swaying his head of luxurious black hair from side to side, his face contorting into frustrated and tense positions. _Oh God, _Nick thought (unfortunately taking the Lord's name in vain again), _Joe's having an orgasm._

"C-close! C-c-close!" Joe stammered as a new sheen of sweat coated his lean and muscular body. He bucked up off the bed uncontrollably, pushing his length inside Marshall's mouth violently, and Marshall took it all. No gagging. No choking. His facial expression didn't even change, yet his smile grew wider, more evil, and so fucking sexy. Then his brother was biting his lip like Nick, drawing some blood as he tried to muffle his groans and murmurs of passion. His veins were popping out of his delicious neck, and Joe flexed and swallowed unconsciously, screaming loudly as he filled Marshall's wicked mouth with his hot seed.

Nick, in a blind fit of hormones and arousal, watched as Marshall swallowed deeply, his neck moving outrageously like when he swallowed a mouthful of Nick's Diet Coke. _I'll never look at Diet Coke the same way again_, he thought.

Joe finally calmed down and started panting on the bed. He glanced down at Marshall's face, buried in his pubes, and smiled. Marshall was always so calm during sex, very relaxed and at peace. Joe was always so calm after sex, very relaxed and at peace.

Nick ran back to his room with no air in his lungs. The mousey steps he took, so cautiously, so maniacally sullen and he wondered if he could die from the paralyzing excitement. He could almost feel Marshall's own lips around him, a talented mouth with hidden secrets that lay behind the microphone. And Joe, Marshall's destined partner (and Nick's brother), so sexy and dumbfounded by the power of Marshall's unrequited mouth. He wanted them so much. So much he could feel it at the back of his throat, which was as dry as a bone. A voice as dead as a doornail.

Marshall's unknown kindness that was so powerful in Nick's eyes. A pained man who was struck with happiness and had tons of surpressed love to give. Joe's gentleness that was like a caress on Nick's skin when he behaved as the most desired brother. Nick recalled the gorgeous and tender brother as being his best friend. Best friend. Nick assumed Marshall was one of those now. Just best friends. Forever.

It wasn't fair, Nick thought. Marshall and Joe got to fuck and make love (or have raunchy quickies before going on stage- a constant thing that others walked in on frequently) every single day and night. Nick didn't have a girlfriend, and his stupid vow fucked things up for him a lot. He wanted to know what it felt like, to love and be loved by someone in every single way. Kevin was no help, living by his "Don't Kiss and Tell" policy and refusing to reveal bedroom secrets. They all knew Kevin was banging Danielle, it was just a fact. Being secretive was never more stupid.

Joe and Marshall, however, were never shy about anything. Marshall raved that Joe had "the mouth of sin" and was "the king of blowjobs". Joe, being slightly more blunt, said that Marshall "rims like a basketball player" and is "tighter than a double knot". Most people covered their ears at the perverted comments, but Nick listened with a smile on his face. He loved hearing their stories, but at the same time witnessed the green-eyed monster. It took him a couple of weeks and more sexual stories to come to the bitter reality that he was deeply in love with both Marshall and Joe. It wasn't even about Nick being gay, it was just that Nick was feeling things deep inside him that couldn't be explained. Marshall was perfect for him. Joe was perfect for him. He couldn't choose. Never.

So the next few days were full of confusion and tension. Sexual confusion and sexual tension. Nick spent all of Monday wondering and determining his sexual identity. Teachers, parents and elders always told him that sex wasn't the most important thing to worry about. With his self-awareness at an all-time low, Nick pondered how the media focused so harshly on sex. Television shows and music and celebrities were always associated with sex in some way, and being a teenager, imagination was running wild. Therefore, to understand his place in the world, he needed to understand his place in the bedroom.

Straight? Gay? Bi? There were a lot of choices. Nick knew that he was definitely swooned over by women. He loved the way they looked, smelled, dressed, even felt. They all seemed to have extremely soft skin and supple lips, with beautiful hair of all different shades and consistancies. But, he also was in deep- way too deep for his own good- love with Marshall. A little butterfly morphed and flew itself throughout Nick's body when he thought of his love. Well, he wasn't exactly Nick's love yet, or never would be. Until Tuesday came...

Marshall was behaving a bit strangely that entire day. During breakfast, the tour directors and band managers were discussing with the gang about photoshoots and Wednesday night's lineup, including the set list for that night. Tuesday was everyone's day off, and that gave Marshall and Joe the free pass to get up whenever the hell they wanted, which was usually 11:30. That morning was no different, and the happy couple slugged their way (hand in hand) to the small dining table. Nick had to hold back a contented sigh at the sight of Marshall and Joe wearing their glasses. They also opted for a shirtless attire, wearing nothing but skin and plaid cotten pajama pants. Nick could tell neither of them were wearing underwear because of their sex lines. If they were wearing any undergarments at all, they would show from the top. Their faces looked flush, and they shared a small, gentle little kiss before sitting down (next to each other, of course) so they wouldn't interrupt the conversation. Nick completely forgot altogether that someone was speaking, or that words existed at all. His mouth was hanging open as Joe reached for a banana on the fruit stand in the middle of the table.

_If he does what I think he's about to do, I'm leaving the table, _Nick thought. As luck would have it, Joe deepthroated the banana while staring intently at Nick. Marshall just smirked at Joe's little game, and at Nick, a strawberry rubbing against Marshall's succulent lips.

_I think I've died and gone to hell, _Nick thought. His eyes were just glued. Super-glued. His eyes were super-glued to the scene next to him. Nick knew in his heart that they were doing those things on purpose. Being all hot and creating a palpable sexual tension. If these events at the breakfast table continue throughout the day, then Nick is a dead man.

Again, as luck would have it, they did continue.

Nick tried intently to avoid the pair throughout the day, but it seemed like they followed him like sex detectives. When Nick decided to stand in the middle of the hallway to read an article from that day's local newspaper, Marshall walked by him with that routine swagger. Nick attempted not to look at him, but Marshall wasn't having it. He let his sexy piano hand grope Nick's perky butt with an evil grin on his stupidly cute face. Well, that was what Nick called it. Needless to say, Nick looked. _Oh boy, _Nick thought. Marshall walked away with black, lust-driven eyes. _Jesus effing Christ._

Joe was no stranger to the sexual harrassment either. Nick and Joe were having a water-cooler conversation about the stock-market and Elton John at the island in the hotel suite's kitchen area next to each other. Every sentence Nick let out it seemed as if Joe was moving closer, without even moving his chair. Joe kept giving him very sexy looks, and Nick assumed it was just the way Joe looked nowadays. Marshall brought out a certain daring attitude in Joe, and Nick admired that a lot. However, it was difficult to look at his brother without feeling aroused, so he stopped looking directly into his eyes after a while.

That just made Joe more persistant in his now obvious attempts to get Nick's attention. Joe was now biting his lip and reaching his hand out further on the table, finally getting it to lay next to Nick's as he babbled on about _Rocket Man_. Nick abruptly gasped mid-sentence, not daring to look at Joe whilst trying to make it seem like the sudden movement didn't affect him. The strategic plan hadn't a chance since the first second, and now Nick sat tongue-tied and comfortably uncomfortable. But the hand moved. Moved. All the way down to Nick's upper thigh, and it made a comfy little home there on the fabric of Nick's pants. Instantly the heat radiating from Joe's hand transposed and translated itself all throughout Nick's body, and he felt a tightness within the center of his pants. He took a deep breath, so unsure of the difference between reality and fantasy, and finally looked at Joe. _My Lord._

Joe's long dark hair framed his adonis face, and his eyes _(How have I never noticed his eyes?) _shown a trespass of beauty, happiness, and above all: _Lust._ His lips a dark pink and tendons breaking out within the tight skin of his neck. His brother was startlingly beautiful. Sexy and stunning.

Nick finally found the situation way too uncomfortable (more so in the nether regions) and tried to exit calmly. Joe, however, wasn't going to take that for an answer, and placed his knee right between Nick's open legs, his right hand which was once touching Nick's fingers started gripping Nick's bicep tightly. He swallowed down his nerves and his slight arousal, wrapping his fingers around Joe's wrist as tight as the grip on his upperarm.

"Stop," Nick whispered, unsure of himself. Joe just ignored him and pressed his knee more into the hard knot between his brother's legs.

"No," Joe retorted.

"Why not?" Nick asked, annoyed and confused.

"Just 'cause," Joe replied sullenly. Nick knocked Joe's hand off his arm, but the leg stayed.

"That's not good enough," Nick stammered attempting to sound confident.

"You're cute when you're angry Nickybear," Joe added. To say Nick was shocked was an understatement. He felt the knot between his legs slowly get harder and harder.

Joe leaned in and brushed his scruffed face across Nick's cheek. Normally the sensation would be irritating, but Nick felt a sadistic pleasure when Joe did it. The close proximity of his brother's flawless face sent tingles of fright and sexual energy throughout.

Joe paused by his ear, and delicately whispered, "See you later Nicky." And like the flick of a wrist, he was gone, and Nick was left with anxiety and the coldness left on his thight where Joe's ghost of a hand was missed. When his thighs quivered, it was almost like a beckoning for Joe's body again. Nick wanted the unrequitted pleasure of having someone so possessive taking control. _I'm in way over my head, _Nick thought. Never one to admit defeat, Nick shuddered his own shoulders, sighed a painful breath, and stood. He counted each step he walked back to the emptiness of his room.

"I don't think he'll like it."

"Says who? He's practically in love with you!"

"I'm his brother, that's pretty traumatizing...asking for such a bold thing."

"It don't matter. 'S just a one time thing."

"But what if he_ is_ in love with you...with me. That could be bad for the both of us."

"But we love him - ,"

"Yeah! But like a brother."

"Still don't matter."

"Fuck you Marshall."

"You know what I mean. One time thing. Won't mean nothin'."

"Your plans don't exactly go the way you want them to."

"Trust me boo, he's smart enough to know the difference between love and lust."

"I'm not agreeing to this until the last possible second."

"Like always."

"Hey, it's worked for me so far."

"Yeah, when it's not a big deal."

"See! It _is_ a big deal!"

"Never said it wasn't."

"Fine."

"'Kay."

_"I met a boy in east LA/ In a hooded sweatshirt not meant for May/ He rapped in 8 bars in two Gangsta chords/ We fell in love/ But not in court..."_

"I hope you know that's plagerism," a voice so beautiful uttered from the other side of the room. Nick swung his head around swiftly, staring into two spiritul green eyes and an odd outfit.

"Oh, hey Stef," Nick said in a somber tone.

"Hey! What did I tell you? Call me Gaga!" Lady Gaga always had a soft spot for Nick. When she joined the tour, she was especially excited to see the Jonas Brothers. Being a past theatre kid herself like Nick, they had a lot in common. (She wouldn't admit it, but she had a small crush on the young boy).

"Sorry St- Gaga," Nick stuttered, still briefly somber.

"You sound upset doll," she stated matter of factly. Nick just nodded and leaned over his guitar, in his lonely room, in his lonely spinning chair.

Stefani pursed her lips to one side, deciphering how to put a smile back on that sweet face. She wasn't an experienced therapist, but they didn't call her Mother Monster for nothing. She decided to take a seat on Nick's bed, as those sad puppy eyes followed her, and with a manicured hand (and extremely long nails) she patted the spot next to her. Nicholas took the cue, and as a gentleman he wouldn't deny the young woman. After all, she had those mothering Italian characteristics.

"Tell this bleach blonde what's on the chocolate curly mind," Stefani began with a laugh. However, Nick wasn't smiling because "bleach blonde" just reminded him of Marshall when he dyed his hair and granted he looked absolutely darling with his dark hair, Nick also loved the way he looked with those blonde locks that only highlighted those precious blue eyes, THOSE EYES! and how they shown brightly when hit perfectly by the sun like earlier with his brother when Joe touched his knee and his eyes spoke a million words and now Nick was creating his own run-on sentence in his mind and his attention was completely diminished.

"Nicholas?" Stefani asked, concerned at the look in Nick's eyes. Saddness, damage, heart broken stories. It couldn't be...

"Are you having issues with your sexuality and love someone you think you could never have?"

Personally, Nick was completely shocked, then again, he's almost always shocked when Gaga walked into the room.

"How'd you do that?" Nick asked in awe. Stefani just shrugged her shoulders and looked away with a hint of pride showing within them.

"A gift. I've dealt with a lot of men and women like you in your situation. So, who's the man?" Stefani interceded. She excitedly looked at Nick now, a bright smile permeating from her facial features. Nick, however, looked sadly at her...still. Stefani studied him another moment.

"Two guys! You're in love with _two _guys!" Nick was shocked once again. Gaga could most likely depict the entire situation, all without Nick speaking a word. Although, Nick decided to save her the trouble.

"Yeah. Bad isn't it?" Nick asked shyly.

"Well," Stefani pondered for a moment. "It's not _that _bad." Nick immediately started his remark this time.

"How about if one of them is old enough to be you're father?"

Stefani raised her bleached eyebrows severely, yet she attempted to find some sort of logical excuse for the potentially sinful admission Nick had made.

"Well, perhaps it wouldn't be that bad since you're eighteen, but -,"

"How about if the other man is your own brother?" Nick interceded abruptly. Little did he know that the diarrhea he exploded from his mouth was the worst possible thing to defacate.

Stefani intensely tried to keep her cool during the terribly awkward silence. Then, she had the odd feeling to just laugh. Laugh out loud, uncontrollably, irrationally. And so she did.

Nick was mortified and now extremely disappointed. He thought perhaps Gaga could help him, but no. No one would understand, not even the most understanding woman in society. Tears sprung from his eyes and he leaned his head down sadly. Stefani, however, tried to stop laughing. The tears she witnessed within Nick's sweet eyes was like a bucket of cold water on her head.

"Oh, Nicholas! I'm so sorry! It's not funny, not funny at all. I'm so stupid. Je suis vraiment desoler mon ami. Tre`s desole`e! I don't care who you love mi compadr`e, ma copain. I swear! It was just the awkward silence, I promise," Stefani sympathized. She'd had her fair share of terribly unfit relationships, so she begged to Jesus Christ that Nicholar would handle this situation rationally (rather than herself).

"Amen my Lord," she whispered and briefly (swiftly) crossed herself. She waited for Nick to respond.

"What?" he asked somberly again.

"Oh, I prayed for you. Nothing to be concerned about. So..." she wondered how to continue the conversation with her own admittance hanging in the air. She hoped Nick didn't take it the wrong way. "Who are the lucky gentlemen?" she asked with a phony smile. Nick was innocently bemused.

"Um...if you promise not to laugh maniacally again if there's another awkward silence," he proposed with a pinky up and a soft grin. Gaga smiled back.

"Ah, of course!" she agreed with a French accent and a manicured pinky around Nick's. "Now spill, ra`pido!"

"Uh...Marshall and my brother Joe," Nick admitted in an intelligable mumble.

"Marsh- ," Stefani paused her own question and answered it herself with a soft puzzle. She remembered the first day she met everyone participating in the tour. Everyone was an utter delight, apart from one single person. Stefani had met and greeted Eminem last, since she had extreme conflict with him; believing that he was an angry, family disrespecting, homophobic low-life who was a terrible father. Never one to believe her own judgements, she shook hands with the rapper and future colleague. Immediately that stern pout on his face turned into a grin and he said, "I'm gonna call you Stefani and you're gonna be okay with it." Though surprised, Gaga held her confidence and replied with, "I'm gonna call _you_ Marshall and _you're_ going to be okay with it." They've been great friends ever since, like brother and sister.

"Ohhh," Stefani said dramatically, softly biting her lip and widely opening her bright green eyes. Nick sighed desperately.

"So...got any suggestions?" Nick asked with very little hope locked within his small voice. Stefani looked to Nick with understanding and trails of comfort leaving her beautiful form. She placed a delicate hand upon Nick's knee and squeezed. She leaned in closely.

"Nick, I'm going to tell you what my dad told me," she began wholeheartedly. Nick felt as if he would cry. "Listen to your heart, unless it tells your brain to shut the fuck up, then you _need _to listen to your brain. Your heart doesn't always know the right thing to do, but your conscience always does."

"Your dad said 'fuck' to you?" Nick asked jokingly. Stefani giggled.

"Well, that's what I thought he meant," she laughed.

Finally Nick smiled, took it all in, and said:

"Thank you."

"Don't scare him, okay?"

"D'oh, but I love freakin' him out!"

"I know you do, that's why I'm telling you not to."

"You're such a dad."

"Not yet I'm not."

"Hey, it's not my fault I don't have a pussy. If I did, this would be so much easier."

"Yes, but it'd also be a lot less fun."

"Oooh! You sexy boy!"

"Shut the fuck up! Someone might hear you!"

"Fine. So, just walk up to him and ask him?"

"No no no! Were you listening to me at all?"

"Yeah! You said don't scare him and to shut the fuck up!"

"Well, asking something like that so abruptly can scare him."

"Oh, well then I guess I have to lure him with my seductive ways."

"I swear, you were a male prostitute in a past life."

"And a damn good one!"

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up."

"He-he. Sorry babe. Kiss for luck?"

"Just one you asshole."

"Bitch."

"Alright? Now go, and don't fuck up."

"I know, I know."

Nick bullshitted his way through another performance that night, holding onto nothing but his guitar and a small bit of hope. Thankfully he didn't have _one_ song scheduled to perform with Marshall that night, but the pain of looking to his left and seeing his brother gyrating and seducing his way through each song was enough to make him wish he had never been born.

When his brother crossed the stage and placed his vein bulging hand on Nick's upper back, softly stroking and leaving heat so penetrating across his body, he thought he might die. He wanted anything than to be near the object of his illegal affection and attraction. He wondered if there was any way to kill himself with the neck of his guitar and to do it without anyone noticing. _No,_ he thought, _they're all looking at him anyway, he's too close_. Too close was an understatement.

They were halfway through the second verse of _Can't Have You_, a song he was feeling very attached to at the moment, and Joe had still not left his side. Nick almost broke out crying, and in fact, he left a single tear fall. He hoped the few in the front row who may have noticed thought that it was just a bead of sweat or something. Yet the sob heard within his voice and his quivering lip suggested something different as he sang "_Tell me you love me too."_ Then he forgot some of the words. In a desperate attempt to make his little brother happy again (possibly), Joe leaned into Nick after he sang his part, and nibbled a bit on Nick's ear.

_No please, no. Just go away. Just leave. I don't want you here. Leave...please..._

So he left.

At least Kevin didn't have a massive crush on Joe. At least...

_Why can't life be a little easier. Just a little._

"Nick! Nickybear, wait up!"

Nick died a little bit again. Why couldn't they both just leave him alone? He was tired, annoyed, heartbroken, and sad. After the concert that night had completed, all Nick wanted to do was curl up in his bed with no insulin pump, and see if he was awake when the sun rose. Just curl up in his hotel room bed. Just curl up...

"Nicky?" Marshall asked after several minutes of screaming and calling down the large hotel hallway. He was practically desperate in his attempt to retrieve Nick's attention to ask him the one thing his lover Joe was persistant in getting an answer to. Nick just didn't seem to want to turn around. Ehaustion? Annoyance? Hearing problem? The cause of Nick's refusal to turn around was unknown. Unless...

"Nick, please. I need to ask you a question," Marshall called. Finally, dreadfully, Nick turned around, feeling the slow breaking of his beating heart. Stefani had told him to be brave, but he couldn't. Bravery was taking a little late to get here, probably missed its train or was stuck in traffic. He didn't dare look up from the ground he was staring at, fully concentrating on the horrible pattern on the carpeted floor.

"Hmmm?" he mumbled. Marshall felt a bit saddened by Nick's peculiar attitude. He wanted the witty, stuck-up know-it-all Nick that he loved with every fiber of his being. And not to mention that he hated when people didn't look him in the eye when speaking to them. He put a hand to Nick's chin and pulled his head up until their eyes locked. Marshall felt a little shudder that went straight to his ever hardening dick.

Nick was in horror. The one person who had to stop him in this deserted hallway and it had to be the man he was in love with. The man who he could never have nor ever admit that he loved. Why did he need to look in the eyes of someone who used them to tell stories of such happiness, love, and laughter. But right now, the only thing he saw in those eyes was lust. Just complete, absolute lust. It made Nick incredibly and unwillingly horny. The eye sex wasn't helping much either to the "unwilling" part.

"Can you, um, come to my bedroom for a minute?" Marshall asked, clearly acting. He didn't have that familiar right eye twitch that made Nick sigh uncontrollably. He didn't have that laid back attitude, but instead was stern and thoughtful in his movements. Nick didn't like that. He wanted Marshall back. His Marshall. Yet, he had to admit, having Marshall not behave in the way Nick wanted him to made Marshall a totally different person; and that made Nick all the more happy in his attempts to have a normal conversation and not feel blinded by heartbreak and saddness.

"Uh...sure," Nick muttered in a careful voice. He wasn't sure he could speak properly anymore. He figured that when your heart is broken that your voice goes with it. That's why his vocals weren't up to par at the show previously.

But then Marshall smiled. Well, grinned mostly. He knew his love didn't like to smile, and was insecure about it, kind of like himself. But when Nick saw the smallest hint of his teeth breaking from those perfect pouty lips that he wanted to do naughty things to, all of his own insecurities flew away as Marshall pushed his own aside.

"Great, let's go then," Marshall retorted happily, yet quietly. Most of the tour members were sleeping in their rooms all along the hotel room flat. Nick just stared at the back of Marshall's beautiful head as he lead the way back to his hotel room. His eyes, however, gradually started to move down the back of this god's body. The shape and fluidity of the muscles in his back. The dexterity within the curve of his spine as he performed his signature "manly strut". His beautiful piano hands pushed into the pockets of his low-rising jeans that managed to still excentuate the curve of his ass. Mmm, that ass. Even at his age, slowly pushing forty, he had a fabulous ass. It was firm and perky, cute and sexy, soft and luscious all at the same time. And then those legs...

"Whoops, better watch your feet there Nicky," Marshall warned with a smirk. Nick suddenly realized that Marshall had abruptly stopped walking. Why? Because they were in front of the happy couple's hotel room suite. Nick felt a knot in his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't so sure that he wanted to go in there, believing that his first instinct had let him speak too fast and without clear thought.

"R-r-right. Sorry," he stammered. Marshall opened the door, but not before placing a comforting hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Hey, relax. It's just me, Marshmallow," Marshall joked with his own little laugh. Nick was surprised he hadn't become a puddle on the floor yet. Marshall wasn't acting anymore, he was back to being the man of Nick's desires, and he wondered if that man knew what the small things he did had such a major affect on how Nick's mind, body and heart worked.

But Nick just laughed and acted like nothing was a big deal even though the evidence was seen plain on the red of his cheeks.

They walked in and Nick just stood inside. He didn't grab a chair, didn't take a seat on the bed, nor the couch, not anything. He just stood in the middle of the room, staring at the carpet with the same ugly pattern on it like in the hallway.

"Nicholas? You okay baby?" Marshall asked from across the room. He started removing his clothes. First his hat, then his shirt, then his wifebeater, his shoes, belt, pants, socks, until he was left only in his Calvin Klein boxers. Nick was suddenly more frightened than ever. First his love calls him "baby" then he's almost naked in front of him. Nick could only squeek out what sounded like "no".

"Baby, come here," Marshall cooed from across the room. He held open his arms, offering a hug filled with strong muscles and dried sweat. Even in the darkness of the room, the moonlight made the ice blue of Marshall's eyes glitter and shine brightly enough to make Nick's heart turn to mush and accept the hug. All Nick was wearing was an extremely thin T-shirt and skinny jeans with some Chuck Daniels converse. Immediately a warmth sprayed itself across Nick's body from Marshall's sweet and beautiful form. Nick nuzzled his face wickedly into the side of Marshall's neck, not believing what was happening at the moment. He had his love nestling his face in his neck sweetly, breathing a cold chill over his whole body that surprisingly didn't make him cold, but made him feel warmer, that much more alive than before.

"Nicholas, can I tell you somethin'?" Marshall asked quietly. Nick, trying to hold back tears and still enraptured in the embrace, nodded in Marshall shoulder. "I like you. No, I love you. I love you a lot. You know that, right?" Nick nodded again, a little bit more furious than the last nod. "Um, do you love me?" Nick finally spoke aloud above all odds.

"Yes. Yes yes yes. I do," he answered softly. Marshall chuckled once.

"You want me to show you how much I love you then?" Marshall asked wickedly, evilly, lustfully. Nick felt his pupils dilate. He swallowed the lump that was tight in his throat and responded, past all judgement, past all reason, past all responsibility.

"Y-yeah."

And then Marshall was moving. Nick felt Marshall all around him, even though he detached himself from the hug that made him feel alive again.

Marshall took Nick jaw in one hand, and started softly kissing his jawline softly, sensually. Nick could just die. Just combust and _die_ from the beautiful sensation. Then Marshall lips had reached Nick's ear.

"Are you ready darling?"

Ready for what, he didn't know. But was he _ready_? Fuck yes. He was born ready. Ready for absolutely anything. _Ready._

"Yeah."

And so Marshall leaned his face down, took a deep breath whilst staring into Nick's eyes, closed his own, and leaned in for a passionate kiss. Just lips at first, but Nick was already in sensory overload, so the tears poured out now. He was kissing, fucking _kissing_ Marshall. His love. He was alone, in a dark room, kissing his love. But then there was that sinking feeling in his gut that something was out of place.

Fuck. _Joe._

That was like a bucket of ice water over Nick's head and he reluctantly, but swiftly, broke free of the beautiful kiss that made his body tingle all over.

"Joe..." he murmered from afar. Marshall grinned and walked a step closer to him.

"I'm pretty sure Joeybear won't mind sweety."

Something was going on, and Nick wasn't sure if he should like it or not. But Marshall only said "Joeybear" when he was in the mood to gush about his lover, and he always had little hearts in his eyes, kind of like now. Nick assumed that Marshall couldn't be lying. So like a little boy with a bag of candy, he took another piece, trying not to think about how long the bag would last.

Nick darted for Marshall's mouth again, knowing that Marshall's slight confirmation was the only reaffirmation he needed at the moment. Joe wouldn't be back for a while, would he? No, he was at the studio recording some songs for the next _SlimJonas_ album. So he kissed Marshall with a bit more force than before.

Soon Nick introduced his tongue into the equation, and it held its own against the power of Marshall's. God, his mouth tasted so good. Redbull, Diet Coke, Joe's kisses and spearmint gum. The taste of Marshall's mouth was anything but just another boring kiss. This kiss made him. This kiss was _his_ kiss. All his for the taking.

Right when Nick was about to bite Marshall's cute little lips, he pulled away. Nick was partially devastated, but the smile and soft flush left on Marshall's face suggested that things wouldn't be ending any time soon.

Then Marshall started fiddling with NIck's belt, and he felt a pang of lust hit him like a ton of bricks. But Nick felt self-conscious and scared. Would Marshall laugh at him? Nick couldn't bear the thought, and started to pull away. Marshall pulled him back, a lustful smile still lurking on his beautiful face.

"Relax, I'll make you feel good," he said with a promise lingering in his melodic voice. Nick gulped and felt another pang of heat and lust overcome his entire body.

"How do you plan on doing that?" Nick asked innocently, bravely, a sheen of sweat bubbling on the back of his neck and a flush presenting itself on his cheeks. Marshall chuckled softly.

"Do you trust me?" Marshall asked in a soft, trusting voice; but his bright blue eyes turned into a dark, lustful sapphire that Nick couldn't question. He did anyway.

"Yes," Nick whispered. Then Marshall smiled brightly, showing his teeth (Finally!) and Nick felt more comfortable than ever. The love of his life, standing right in front of him, wanted to make him feel good. As far as Nick could tell, he was the only thing on Marshall's mind at the moment. He wouldn't let this moment go for the world, even if it was a dream, even if it was sinful, even if it lasted a minute. At the rate this was going, Nick could come in thirty seconds without any physical stimulation at all. But Marshall got Nick's belt off before this dream could end.

Marshall's lips dived for Nick's neck, multitasking by opening the button to Nick's pants and sliding them down his slender hips, past his groin, and to the tops of his thighs. Because his pants were so tight, Marshall decided that that was enough space for what he was about to do.

_What __**is**__ he about to do?_ Nick thought whilst softly moaning by his love's touches and soft kisses to his sensitive neck. The next thing Marshall advanced to was Nick's underwear, and Nick gasped softly. He was beating hard, and awkward about his size. Regardless, Marshall moved his wicked mouth to the other side of Nick's neck and pulled his underwear down to meet his pants. This whole system felt slow to Nick, and maybe that's what Marshall wanted. Nick suddenly felt so alive, so special; and it might've been a little selfish, but he imagined that Joe probably got the same attention from Marshall every night, but now it was Nick's turn.

Marshall's soft and lithe hands cascaded over Nick's lower body, disappearing under his shirt and stroking all of the muscled there while he still continued to nip at Nick's neck. Surprisingly, Nick got the hint and broke away from Marshall's ministrations to remove his shirt. When separated and shirtless, Nick looked to Marshall, seeing a beautiful angel face of lust and evil deeds. Nick was scared shitless, but oh so excited.

Then Nick's body was in the air. Marshall. Marshall was carrying him. HIM!

He led Nick's small body to the bed, laying him down gently on silk sheets. Smiling the entire time, Marshall practically tore Nick's pants off, shoes and all. Finally Nick was naked, his other clothes scattered on the floor with his shirt.

"Sit up," Marshall ordered politely. Nick never knew a person could be polite without saying "please" or "thank you", but Marshall had. God he loved this man. He was too perfect for words. It was no question that Nick proceeded to do what he was told and sat up carefully on the bed. He looked to Marshall and wondered what was next.

Then his love started to get to his knees, and Nick knew exactly what was going to happen. His eyes dilated and his breathing got heavier. Being a virgin, he had no idea what to expect from this, especially someone who was so well trained. Marshall's hands met the top of Nick's knees in an effort to comfort the young boy.

"Relax. Everything's gonna be a'ight, a'ght?" _Oh God, that accent!_ Nick thought. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Was everything going to be okay? Fuck yes it was! He tried not to let his arousal show from the heat given to him by Marshall's sexy voice, but having his erection so prominent and even harder than before was extremely hard to hide. Marshall smiled brightly.

Keeping their eyes locked, Marshall inched closer to Nick's cock, and finally (_FINALLY!_) Marshall wrapped his pouty lips around the head of him. Nick slowly started to lose his mind.

"Marsh...Marshall! Ohmmm," Nick moaned, still staring at Marshall as he gave him his first blow job. Nick couldn't believe it. All of that teasing. All of those endless nights thinking about what it was like. Hating himself for being such a prude. Now, none of that mattered. This was final. This was set in stone. Marshall was taking away a piece of his purity. The love of his life was down on his knees in front of him.

It soon became apparent that Marshall didn't like to tease, because he swallowed Nick's cock whole like he had something to prove. Immediately the suction started to begin, and Nick felt as if his entire organ system was being sucked out of his dick. Then Marshall started bobbing his head whilst sucking to keep up both friction and stimulation, and Nick started moaning like a madman. He needed more feeling. Like a greedy whore, he needed everything no matter how good it already was.

"Oh sweet Jesus...Marshall that's so good."

Apparently, Marshall liked this a lot, the dirty talk and moans, because he started increasing the pace in which he was sucking and bobbing. But then he started routinely licking and slurping his way up and down Nick's pole. Nick was lost on clouds 9, 10, and 11. There was just no way any person on this planet could be so good at everything they try. Marshall tried to be a rapper, excelled in that. Marshall tried to be a father, excelled in that. Marshall tried to be gay, excelled in that. Marshall tried to give head, excelled in that.

Then Nick started to feel a little strange. There was this weird, _tingling_ sensation driving up from his feet to his legs. His breath became shorter. His hands started to shake. His lip started to quiver. _Oh my God,_ Nick thought, _I'm having my first orgasm._

Like he could read Nick's mind, Marshall started to sense this and pulled away. Nick was a little more than upset with this and started to whine.

"Shhh, don't worry babe. I want you to fuck my mouth," Marshall requested, lips swollen and wet. Nick was perplexed.

"H-how do you do that?" he stuttered. Marshalled smiled.

"Just thrust into my mouth. Trust me, it will all come naturally," Marshall said in a comforting voice. So Nick trusted him. Then Marshall's mouth was back to eating Nick's cock like his last meal, deep throating the whole damn thing. Nick wasn't even that small, but he was average, he assumed. Instead of sucking, bobbing or licking like previously, Marshall mouth just stayed still at the base of Nick's length. He didn't know how he knew, but Nick could tell that he should start thrusting. God, what a sensation. He felt the head of his dick punctuate the back of Marshall's throat, and the friction was at least five times greater than before. Then Marshall groaned around Nick's pole like he was enjoying every minute of this sinful act. And maybe, that assumption wasn't all that far from the truth.

The familiar tingling sensation developed once again from the bottom of Nick's feet all the way up his spine. With a scream, the entire groinal section of his body became numb, and pleasure showered over the rest of him. He felt a strange recollection of a fluid being released from him, and when he was coherent enough, determined that it was probably his semen. By that point Nick was exhausted and fell over on the bed as Marshall's mouth left him. When Nick saw that perfect angel face again, it was smiling and licking its lips.

Nick saw those lips aim for his own face, and there was a tender kiss being placed on his cheek softly, like a lover comforting his partner after his or her long day of work.

"How was it?" Marshall asked, his breath tickling Nick's ear. Nick sighed in pleasure, not trusting his own voice at the moment. That was enough for Marshall to grasp, and he smiled against Nick's cheek. Nick thought that that was it, just a kiss on the cheek after a sexual escapade and Marshall (or himself) would be on his way. But no, Marshall had other plans. Many more plans.

There was a hand back on Nick's groin, sensually rubbing as Marshall nipped at Nick's neck. Nick felt himself getting harder and hotter, but more confused than anything. _Wasn't that it? _Nick thought. _Or is there more? What more could this god of a man do to me but leave me speechless?_

The pure obliviousness in Nick's thoughts was more than an indicator towards Nick's blunt innocent values. Greed was the farthest thing from Nick's mental or vocal vocabulary, unless he was participating against it out of context. The little physical and tremendous emotional pleasures that Marshall gave him was enough to drive Nick up the wall. He would never take these moments for granted, would never wish for anything more. Himself and Marshall, these little pleasures, was all he needed to live a happy life. Nick wondered to himself why there was always a feeling of jealousy hidden behind an unhappy face, an unhappy heart. It could possibly be the fact that he was just a little bit greedy. But only so. Only a little. Just a little.

"I'd like to try one more thing Nicky darlin', if you don't mind?"

Did he mind! Fuck no. Did he want it? Fuck yes. Did he love the sudden grasp of the attention that he has fought for his entire life? Fuck yes. Two yes's and a no means...

"Yes."

Marshall gave him a puzzled look. Nick had a slight "dumb blonde" moment and quickly corrected himself, completely mortified.

"I mean, no. I um...don't mind at all. Do whatever you want to me...with me. I mean, no, yes. Um..."

Marshall chuckled and kissed Nick's cheek again, forever silencing his lover's shy pleas. "Don't be nervous babe," Marshall concerned. "If you want me to stop, just let me know."

_Just let you know. Just let you know._ Just how far would Marshall take it? Why would that need to be an option? _Want him to stop._ Who the hell would want him to stop? Nick had to admit to himself regrettfully that he used to be utterly repulsed by the idea of having any relations with Marshall Bruce Mathers the Third, insulting the man's demeanor and appearence so much so that Joe pushed and swore at him like a street fighter. Just the thought of Joe being so protective and forceful made Nick harder under Marshall's current touch. The touch on his stiffening member, that was.

Nick hadn't even realized that Marshall was in fact touching him, just that it felt so good down below. He'd never felt like this in his entire teenage existence. This feeling. This sense of love and tenderness. In the midst of all of the lewd acts that they were performing, there was still that faint hint of compassion and sentimental responsibility. Not to mention the loving and adoring look Marshall was giving him that he also didn't realize up until this point. God, Marshall was all his. _His!_ At least just for the night.

But then Marshall was moving, yet still holding that piercing stare that made Nick's heart do silly worrisome things. Nick wasn't paying attention to pretty much anything except the piece of solid gold in front of him, but he could very well feel Marshall straddle him. The back of Marshall's thighs- _and that ass, don't forget that lusciously perfect mound of ass_- was touching the tops of his. And then, it all started to hit Nick like a ton of bricks.

_He's going to...Oh God._

Marshall hoisted himself up on his strong legs, gripped Nick's dick in his hand from behind him, and slid onto his pole like it was going out of style. The troubled whimper that escaped Marshall's breathtaking lips was something that Nick imagined his girlfriends would do if he ever had the motherfucking balls to break this unbreakable promise that was now permanently broken. _Oh God._

"So, how does it feel Nick? To have that sexy little prick up the tightest thing you've felt since your last pair of skinny jeans? God, you're almost as big as your brother," Marshall continuously moaned. He didn't move at all and it was making Nick frustrated and that much more horney. God, Marshall's ass felt like heaven and ice cream. What he would do to have another scoop.

Like he could read Nick's mind, Marshall started moving. He slid off Nick's dick until his ass ring clamped down tightly on the head, then fell back down on it. Marshall moaned like he didn't need to breathe. Just one moan after another. Nick, under the intense feelings and amazing sensations, quickly thought that if Marshall moaned frequently on his songs, he'd push the "billion records sold" mark. Just as that thought ended, Marshall's voice cracked on a particularly high-pitched moan. His eyes were half closed, his beautiful chest muscles bouncing on each thrust off of Nick's cock. Finally it started to become too much for Nick, not that he was close to orgasm, but because the breathtaking looks plastered across Marshall's face was making his heart ache. Nick closed his eyes, desperately trying to remember this feeling. This love, this tightness, this moment. If he couldn't have Marshall, he could still have this memory.

Just then, as if to destroy these precious moments, to crumble Nick's heart like a withered mountain, the door creaked open. But, instead of panicking, Marshall continued. In fact, there wasn't even a pause or startled movement from him. He continued to ride the hell out of Nick, still making those quaint little endless moans and tiny gasps of pleasure. So, Nick opened his eyes to speculate. First, he gazed up a Marshall's face. Marshall's eyes were open as well, smirking down at Nick with sighs breaking through those lips of sinful poison. Nick then precariously looked in the direction of the door.

Joe.

_Oh my God, I never thought I would be murdered, but now my own brother's going to do it, _Nick thought, his heart pounding. Joe's hair was in a rubber band behind his head, which he did when his very long locks became too frustrating in high pressure situations. There was a soft flush on his cheeks, and his mouth was taut, and his eyes were tired. Nick superficially thought that his brother looked sexy at the moment, but all of the above indicated that Joe was in no mood to deal with bullshit, let alone his homewrecking brother.

But, he didn't even flinch. Nick and Joe's eyes met for a split second, and Joe grinned. _Grinned!_ He immediately started pulling off his clothes, as well as his rubberband scrunchy.

"Hi baby," Marshall sighed in a porn voice. Nick quickly noticed that it was directed towards Joe, not himself. Needless to say, it freaked Nick out a little. They were acting like the same peachy fuckin' keen couple as if Nick wasn't even there. He din't know whether to be offended or relieved. His brother wasn't going to kill him, but did he care enough _to_ kill him if given the chance.

Still focusing on Joe, he noticed him smile at Nick, then blow a kiss to Marshall. Yup, Nick didn't exist. Poor Nicky was invisible. Just a dildo on top of a pile of sheets, being ridden by Marshall. It crushed Nick, really. To want something so bad, to finally get it, then realize you're just being used as an advantage (like date rape or something); it made Nick want to push Marshall off him and run out naked and crying. However, it felt too damn good. He guessed that being used wasn't that bad.

"Hey Nicky!" Joe called. Nick turned his head back to his brother, and realized that his brother was buck naked and dripping hard, smiling at Nick brightly. And suddenly, Marshall didn't exist this time, only Joe and himself. Nick smiled back, happy again.

Still smiling, hard, and sexy, Joe waltzed over to Nick and Marshall. The realization of what the night may hold hit Nick hard in the face, literally. With a groan, Marshall started to orgasm. His climactic fluid shot in a thin rope on Nick's chest and face, his cheeks flushed and a soft (quite beautiful) look in his eyes. Nick smiled, almost entranced, even with Marshall's potential babies all over his upper body. Though a part of this night was over, a new experience would begin. Nick would finally recieve what he had longed for: making love to the people he loved.

He'd already recieved this from Marshall, and planeed to give back. Nick shuddered, and came for the second time that night deep within the love of his life. Marshall gasped quietly, and dismounted. He lay beside Nick, pulling the young boy in his arms like a lover, and placed sweet kisses all over his neck, cheek, and temple. Nick sighed in delight. He was finally getting what he wanted. Without begging, without pleading, without remorse, Nick was going to get what he selfishly thought he deserved: love.

Joe, standing in between Nick's legs on the edge of the bed, waited patiently for his darling Marshall to stop eating Nick's face and come down from his orgasmic high. After five minutes of being ignored in silence, Joe spoke up.

"Baby," he exclaimed calmly. Marshall gazed up at his boyfriend with apologetic eyes, and let go of Nick unwillingly. Yet, Marshall still hung close enough towards the boy to radiate an unforgettable amount of love that Nick felt within his spine and beyond.

Joe smiled at his lover and looked to Nick. There was a hint of lust in those caramel honey eyes that Nick only saw across the dinner table when Marshall and his brother were playing footsie under the table. The fact that it was now being directed towards himself made Nick hard all over again. And it hurt bad because it had only been a mere thirty seconds since his last climax. Seeming to notice this, Joe smiled wider and approached Nick, still in between his legs.

"Hi babe," Joe whispered. Nick just smiled, breathless. The moonlight caught all of the precious parts of Joe's beautiful face and body, making them glow like a scene out of a romantic movie. "Ready?" What Nick was asked to be ready for, he didn't know. Nick wasn't too focused on one thing in particular, and was basically okay with anything his lovers planned on doing with him. He guessed, however, that the question may have something to do with Joe's very large erection going some place very special inside Nick. So, Nick nodded excitedly. Joe chuckled and looked to Marshall.

"Marshall my dear, can you um...prep Nick for me?" Joe asked in a sensual porn voice. Nick didn't know what "prep" was, but Marshall stood up like a kid recieving candy. Joe grabbed Nick's ankles and handed them to Marshall, like Nick was a toy. A sex toy. Marshall, staring intensely into Nick's eyes, lifted his legs in a "v" position high in the air. Then, still staring, Marshall descended between Nick's legs.

Nick was expecting a repeat lip service from earlier, but this time, however, he recieved a different form of lip service. Marshall's tongue cascaded over Nick's opening, and Nick shuddered all over. Never had he expected anything would go there. Never did he expect such intimacy towards something like _that_ on his body. It didn't even cross his mind that it might be disgusting, it was just...different. It didn't feel weird or gross or uncomfortable, and he was surprised to say that it felt...good. Better than good. Better than great. It was like the gay male version of cunnilingus, that's all. Now it all made sense to him. He could probably pull this off. However, Nick didn't expect a full french kissing session on that forbidden place.

Marshall went at that particular dark place with gusto and determination. He used his tongue like a weapon, attacking Nick's opening like a knife cutting a thick strand of rope. The amount of saliva that accumulated between Nick's legs was enough to form a small puddle. The situation as a whole made Nick very aroused, and he got fully hard once more for the night.

"Okay Marshall dear, I know you love to do that, but I think Nickybear is ready," Joe whispered to his lover. Marshall immediately obeyed at the mere sound of Joseph's voice. Indeed, Marshall _did_ love to do that. Joe knew better than anyone that he loved to do that. It made Marshall's tastebuds go alight when he did that. Marshall went right back to lying next to Nick, now hugging him loosely from the side and going back to kissing his neck.

Joe then replaced Marshall's former spot between Nick's legs, except, he was standing. He grabbed Nick's legs and inched that special organ towards Nick's (now completely open and gasping) opening. He stared intensely at Nick, pure love in his eyes. Nick gave Joe the same assurance.

So this was it. Joe, the man Nick loved, lying next to Marshall, the man whom he also loved, was going to take the last and final piece of Nick's virginity. Nick didn't even flinch at the thought, nor did he flinch at the intrusion of Joe's dripping hard cock inside him. This was perfect. Nick would feel no pain, no regret, no doubt. This was meant to happen. He wanted this. He was getting this.

Joe hit a spot within Nick that made his hips leap off the bed involuntarily. The shudder sprung from his brother's uncut dick touching that special place flowed throughout his entire body. Joe smiled at this, and leaned down to connect his lips with his brother's. Nick felt the same things that he felt whilst kissing Marshall: love, fireworks, happiness, content. It felt right. Joe wasn't Nick's brother in that moment, Joe was just his lover.

His other lover, Marshall, started to shift down Nick's body, leaving kisses all over as Joe continued to thrust inside him. When Marshall finally got to Nick's abs, he started to jerk Nick's cock whilst placing tender kisses on his tummy. Nick sighed as Marshall then started to abruptly wrap those sexy lips around his dick, aiming for a repeat offense as previously performed. Finally, the sensations were too much for Nick. He came for the last time inside Marshall's mouth, sighing both of his lovers's names. Then Joe released his desire within Nick, as well as Marshall who started to jerk off from his own ministrations. While his eyes were closed, Joe and Marshall leaned in to place a kiss on Nick's lips. Soft, gentle, non-sexual. Nick was so happy he could die, but he settled on falling asleep instead, Joe and Marshall following suit.

"See what I told you?" Marshall asked, his left arm wrapped tightly around Joe. His beautiful boyfriend thread his fingers through his hair and looked at him.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Joe whispered with a grin wide on his face. Marshall smiled back at him, a rarety in his own right.

"Go take a shower babe, I'll be here if Nick wakes up, okay?" Marshall suggested sweetly, kissing Joe's cheek. He loved how sexy his angel of a boyfriend looked so early in the morning.

"Alright. But don't do anything stupid," Joe warned with a smirk. Marshall just laughed.

"I know darling," Marshall yawned. So Joe got up, kissing Marshall softly on the cheek, and went to the bathroom connecting to Nick's hotel room.

As if on cue, Nick awoke by his own stupid internal alarm clock. 6:47 a.m. sharp, every single morning. Marshall immediately went into action.

"Hey Nick," he said to the curly head lying on a pillow. Nick almost forgot why the hell the love of his life was in his bed...naked.

"Oh, hey Marshall," Nick yawned. "I guess we should be getting up now, shouldn't we? Hey...where's Joe?"

Marshall sighed and sat up, looking down at Joe. He didn't know if everything would go according to plan, but he hoped for the best. He didn't want to let Joe down.

"Um, he's in your shower. I hope you don't mind," Marshall said with a soft grin. He couldn't help it, Nick looked too precious just lying there with a sexy smile on his face.

"Nah, I don't mind. Especially not with him," Nick remarked. Marshall "hmm'ed" and grimaced.

"Um, Nick...what did you...think about last night?" Marshall hesitated, trying to word everything correctly and comfortably. Nick detected a slight distilled notion from Marshall's Detroit slickened voice, and became more careful in his choice of words.

"Uh, well, I thought it was amazing. I mean, it was my first time," Nick remarked again, sounding genuinely delighted and happy. Marshall raised his eyebrows.

"Oh yeah, about that. I'm sorry we took that from you, I mean, unless you're okay with that." _Jesus Christ, this conversation is getting more awkward by the moment,_ Marshall thought. Nick laughed and said:

"Oh don't worry. I wanted it alright." Nick couldn't contain his giggles, which also made Marshall giggle.

"Well that's good. But uh, you know that was a one time thing right?" _Stupid, stupid, fuckin' stupid! Way to be blatant Marshall! You dumbass! _Marshall thought. He often talked to himself like that. It sometimes freaked him out, but doctors assured him that he was far from shizophrenic. 'Far in what context?' he asked.

Nick paused for a moment, and realized. He realized that even wishes come to an end. Dreams too, dreams always have an ending point. You can't have your dream forever. Nick was always realistic with that point, but he never thought that this point would come. Never thought he would have to face it.

"Um, yeah. Yeah I know," Nick said honestly but sadly. He refused to look Marshall in the eye. It was like a break up with no relationship to begin with.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. I love you. And Joey loves you. We love you...so much. We'd die if anything ever happened to you, but," Marshall thought about what he would say this time, being extremely careful. "Joe's my boo, you know that. He's my soul mate. My everything. And, one day, you'll find _your_ everything. Look, it took me half of my life to find _the one_..."

"But...I care about you," Nick sat up along with Marshall, looking him dead in the eyes, sorrowful eyes. "I...I don't know how it happened, but I fell. I fell hard for you, but I also fell hard for, you know...him." Marshall knew who "him" was, for sure. When Nick was sure Marshall knew what he was talking about, he continued his rant. "It's wrong, it's sinful, it's completely irresponsible, but I don't care. Last night wasn't about sex for me, it was about love. I finally got to be with the person that I cared for the most, and the other person that I cared for the most. Care for the most. I'm not used to feeling like this, so vulnerable and fictitious. I know, okay? I know that this fairytale wouldn't last. I knew last night was my one and only night to experience such love and affection...at least until I'm married. But, at the moment, maybe forever, I can't picture myself with anyone other than you and Joe." With his heart bleeding on the mattress, Marshall just looked at Nick.

"Please, you and I both know that's bullshit. If you were meant for me, I wouldn't have Joe. If you were meant for Joe, you two wouldn't be brothers. And there's no such thing as a three-way relationship. I can't stress to you enough how much time you have on this earth to find your _true love_. I tell this to my daughter all the time, she's only fifteen. She has her whole life to think about boys. You, I don't even think that you're gay. I came there last night to assure you that this won't be the last time you will meet someone that you care about. This isn't finite, this isn't the last time you are going to fall in love or have sex. Yes, I care about you too Nick, but you're a free bitch. I'm not. I don't need to be, and I can't, and I most certainly don't want to be. You need to just do you right now. You need to be Nick. Okay?" Marshall didn't know what to expect from that corny-ass speech, but Nick's face said it all.

A smile.

"Thank you," Nick said. That was all that he said. So Marshall smiled, nodded, and Nick packed up and left. There was no longer a sinking feeling in his stomach. No more selfish "woe is me" feelings.

_I'm a free bitch baby._

"Hey sweetheart," Joe said when he came out of the shower, steam seeping out of the bathroom.

"Hey Joe," Marshall said happily.

"Where's Nick?"

"Oh, he left to his room."

"Is he okay?"

"He's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

_I don't wanna fall asleep_

_Cuz I don't know if I'll get up_

_Don't wanna cause a scene_

_But I'm dying without your love_

_Beggin' to hear your voice_

_Tell me you love me too_

_Cuz I'd rather just be alone_

_If I know that I can't have you..._

"Not anymore...not anymore."

So, Nick broke the rules, and decided to sleep in this morning. Just this morning.


End file.
